Route 72
by Matthew1972
Summary: My collection of Supernatural drabbles (100-400 words), most of which are responses to challenges listed on the fandom community of Story Scribes. Includes the lead characters and many more.
1. Angel vs Spider (Castiel)

**Angel vs Spider**

Castiel is an Angel of the Lord. Not afraid of anything. A celestial being of great powers and a soldier who's fought and won battles in his long life of thousands of years. To the humans around him he's all but immortal. To many of his angelic brethren he's a devout leader.

But here he is. Brand new on this Earth. Frozen where he stands. Unsure… shaking with something he doesn't understand.

He glares at the ugly creature on the wall. A second ago it came crawling towards him on eight crooked and hairy legs. From where it now pauses it eyes him up. Will it jump him? The idea is ridiculous, but he fears the possibility all the same.

Why? It's no larger than two inches in size after all. He can easily smite it with his God given powers. Should he?

The strange feeling of cold discomfort in his gut keeps him where he is. Rooted to the floor of the abandoned ware house. Is it smirking at him? He squints his eyes to see more in the dark.

Indecision shatters at last when the spider feels the tremor in the air before he does. The arrival of the Winchester brothers, noisy and intrusive in the evening air. It retreats back into the dark faster than Castiel deems possible for such a creature.

Phew! He breathes a sigh of relief, turns to face the brothers and pretends that he's fine, back to being the unshaken soldier of heaven…


	2. Winchester Fate (John)

**Winchester Fate**

John stares at his handwriting in his journal. His torn heart wants revenge, seeks to protect his sleeping sons from the monster under the bed and all its brethren. So much evil. Yet the one he needs to kill, the yellow-eyed demon, remains out of his reach. His hunt for it though yields more questions than answers. On some nights it wears him down… until he finds another clue to push him onwards.

His eyes cloud over in memory of the fire which destroyed his life. Oh sure, he's survived it, but the truth is that he is only fighting on for his boys. He's all they have left since their mother got killed.

John finishes his entry. He can't bear it to rest or sleep tonight. Sees far too many shadows around them. Once he would have chalked them up as figments of his imagination, but no longer.

Innocence. He's forgotten what it feels like. Sees it though in Sam, even when he shouldn't be fooled by it any longer. Is what he learned true? Can it be that it is his youngest whom the monster truly wanted? An invisible darkness lurks in his son's veins. Evil waiting to hatch. John can't conceive what it means, not yet. Can't believe it… refuses to. No, it doesn't make any sense! Why Sammy?

He ditches his pen to wander back through his journal and life. Each page holds clues about the fate of his family within. Can he even protect Sam? Is he supposed to?

Standing up John on automatic rights the blanket over his still fragile, sleeping boy. Fate be damned! First and foremost, he is a father. For his boys he will go to hell and back. Nothing any demon or monster can do about it to stop him.


	3. Four Years (Sam)

**Four Years**

Sam hears how an intruder stalks through his apartment. Sees them move around as if they belong there, while he closes in on them. They don't know what they are up against. Trusting in the training his father has drilled into him Sam sneaks up on them when their back is turned. He kicks, punches and throws in a defensive shove. The intruder however moves faster. To his shock Sam lands on his back on the floor… from where he stares up at his older brother, Dean.

"You scared the crap out of me." Sam breathes out his relief.

"That's because you are out of practice."

Sam scoffs at how Dean taunts him. After spending four years apart the bastard acts unchanged. Everything Sam has been holding away from his attempt at living a safe life stares down at him, far too smug for comfort. The door he's pushed closed himself gets thrown open wide to let in the love and respect he thought he'd forgotten about. Sam feels called out. Wants it as much as he tries to shove it away. Is he ready to let Dean, and what he brings along with him, back into his life?

The angry frustration Sam feels over the last argument with his father hasn't died yet. His reasons for moving away from his hunter family are still valid too. Worse, the memory of John shutting the door upon his return is enough for Sam to pull his hackles back up again. To make his point he flips Dean over onto his back, into submission.

Unchastised Dean grins in pride, diffusing the anger inside of Sam, for now. Between them there are no wounds from heated arguments left. Only their wayward father holds such powers over Sam.

"Dad has gone on a hunt and he hasn't been home for a few days."

In the face of Dean's blunt request for help his anger means nothing. Family is more important to Sam than anything. He can protest all he wants to, but he can't ignore that deep down he hasn't forgotten where he came from. His brother needs him… and that's what counts. Sure, he wishes to see what lies in wait for their hunt, but he can't. Come Monday though Sam has an interview and Dean knows to drop him off in time. Whatever happens he'll continue the path of his choice, right?


	4. Trick or Truth (Gabriel)

Summary: Set in episode SPN05x08 - Changing Channels. In which we find out that there is more to the trickster than Dean and Sam knew… and why said archangel hides himself on Earth, far away from the coming apocalypse.

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**Trick or Truth**

Family! Oh, how he's done with his brothers and their fighting. Michael and Lucifer, his father's beloved archangels. The two loudest sons. Good versus evil some say. Well… Gabriel is done with caring either way. Father is not listening anymore, is he? So why do they even bother with dishing out their arguments on His creation? Why call for attention from the one who's gone fishing or whatever?

On Earth people don't even know what's coming. Humans are such simple creatures. They see the wars, and every other sign on the walls dished out by what they perceive as nature, and ignore the obvious. Storm… lightning… earth crashing rain… the list is endless. Gabriel knows better, of course he does, but he chooses to ignore the coming downpour known as the apocalypse.

After all, he has a life too. He's known as The Trickster now. A skill he takes pride in. The world he's grown more fond of than he's ready to admit to needs the joy and fun he can give it… the distraction… or maybe it's what he needs. Gabriel wants to ignore the apocalypse, which is nothing more than his brothers doing what they've done since the dawn of time… argue.

They though need their true vessels. A human to wear, so they can walk the Earth and tear it down. Those damned Winchesters, who are too stubborn for their own good. Why fight the inevitable? Let's just get it over with, right?

That's what he'll tell them to do. So, he lures them over for another game of cat and mouse between them. One he will win, he _has_ to. Maybe if he can convince them to play their part, he will get his peace…

This is the card he plays, until it gets thrown back into his face and he's lost his advantage. Damned Dean and his blunt insight! Gabriel _is_ scared of his brothers! That's what he's always been. As much as he hates to see the world ending he refuses to get dragged back into the fight.

Lucifer and Michael…

Sam and Dean…

The parallels are insane, but only fate knows where it ends this time. So, what if he is an archangel too? Gabriel can't intervene, refuses to. He's as done with his brothers as he was before, when he left Heaven long ago, and so he keeps on running… for now.


	5. Peace (Dean)

Warning: Character deaths and sadness  
Summary: Years from now the journey of the Winchesters ends in peace. Dean sets free the almost forgotten memory of the boy he used to be…

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**Peace**

Dean blinks at the crinkled photograph in his hand. His weathered fingers tremble around it. Age; to him it is the cruellest monster of all. Hunters aren't fated to live this long, and yet... here he is. A gruff old man and his bottle of whisky. Alone with his dark thoughts. Bent, broken and still walking the earth.

When his failing eyes cooperate with his wistful mood Dean can see the face of a young man, but he feels like it's not him. Hasn't been for a long time. Behind him a door falls shut, and he can see Sam is heading towards him in uneven footfalls. His little brother too looks nothing alike the other face in the decades old snapshot.

Dean misses the boy he used to be. Oh, he couldn't have known his future. No man ever does. Once he would have scoffed at the idea of having one stretch out so far ahead of him that he'd forget even himself. Soldiers don't live long, right?

But Sam had always believed in peace and normal. Things which Dean feels sceptic about, even when he can't escape the ironic truth within. One he smooths away with whisky.

At last Sam sits his just as weary body down by his side to share the understanding of two brothers; a private world they've always lived in. Dean hands over the bottle for one final toast. The moon peaks over tree tops, dusk settling down over them... and his last thoughts too. He knows he doesn't have to speak.

The battle is won. Their journey ends today. With his Baby parked in the long grass of the field where evil made its final bow before her hood and windscreen. Before them, the Winchesters.

But, as always, one more monster lurks. The one who wins, because she is the order of things. Dean won't fight her (and nor will Sam)… not when peace is theirs. Not a being in heaven or hell will deny them what they've deserved. This Death herself has promised to him.

Leaving his younger ghost behind on the porch Dean smiles for his memory. These by most forgotten boys are what the Earth itself will remember. Their story only told in a community now obsolete. Dean and his little brother who saved the world unseen. Two long shadows, fading under the star-filled sky... and into their heaven beyond.


	6. Time ( Castiel)

**Summary: **From the veil Castiel watches over Dean and Sam, unable to stop time and waiting for the inevitable to pass, which may not be such a bad fate after all  
**Author note: **Companion piece to my drabble titled Peace (the previous drabble in this collection)

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**Time**

Unseen eyes watch the Winchester brothers from the veil between Heaven and Earth. A piercing blue filled with anguish over what can't be undone. No, Castiel isn't ready yet to step out into the mortal world to answer their call. He balls his hands into fists to contain his anger inside of himself. For all of his angelic powers… why can't he stop time?

Hours and days. Once they meant nothing to him, barely blips in his thousands of years of living. But since Earth… since pulling Dean from hell and binding their fate somehow… the meaning of forever kept drawing shorter. In gaining free will he was losing those who with each day were to mean more to him than any other beings ever could. Dean and Sam, now his brothers too.

Oh, the bitter irony of his choices isn't lost on Castiel. His non-existent, yet according to some by far too large, heart is breaking only because he allowed it to care too much about two flawed human beings. Mortal souls inevitably called to the same heaven he had more than once defied out of that same love. Time… can it forgive him for his mistakes?

Dean and Sam, always fighting on so that humanity can decide their own fate. Not the demons or angels… and not even God has the power to stop them. Sure, they can strike the brothers down, but nothing keeps them down for long. Only one inevitable force is strong enough. The one they didn't dare believe in, still don't. Time…

Regret falls heavy over Castiel. There is no monster left to strike the Winchesters down, only old age. They have won one fight… but lost another. Final determination etches Dean's manners when he helps Sam rise from the porch. Castiel feels their sense of peace as they head off slowly into the sunset, coming towards him where he will show them into their personal heaven, a shared one. These two can't be parted. The universe knows it. No one will intervene, not a single entity alive.

Peace replaces grief inside of Castiel when outstretched hands of invitation allow him to slip into the backseat of the waiting Impala. No one gets left behind. Their brotherhood can't be broken by death. With Dean behind the wheel and Sam sitting shotgun they drive off. The road into their heaven is unending… like time itself.


	7. Soldier (Dean)

**Soldier**

Even as a boy Dean knew what he had to become, what he was deep down in his genes even when he was too innocent still to fully understand. When his dad told him what to do, he listened, always seeking approval. He learned to shoot and excelled at it. Harder, faster, stronger… because it was what a hunter needed to be to stay ahead in the fight against monsters. Each scar gained was a lesson learned. Tough love only made him better at what he did…

Now as an adult Dean is still all of that, and maybe more. His father is gone, has fallen years ago. There's no need any more for him to seek the approval of another… not unless he counts Sammy. But no, his not-so-little brother looks up to him in the same way he's always done. To Dean though it makes no difference. He feels driven still to fight for the only thing worth fighting for; family. Cas… Bobby… they too are a part of that, because family is so much more than blood.

Dean knows that he is unapologetic, rough around the edges and headstrong. He too is as driven to fight a monster first and ask it questions later as he's always been. Part of him has grown weary, and yet he won't stop… can't stand down from what he is. Oh, he has tried to live the domestic life once, but it didn't stick. His sense of normal by now is too far removed from the rest of world.

With experienced moves Dean sharpens his blade. The sound of the whetstone against metal is as familiar to him as the thrill of anticipation he feels rise in his gut. They have all the answers on how to gank these monsters. Nothing stops Dean from heading towards danger, with Sammy on his heels. The fighting… the rush of adrenaline… even the blood… and best of all, the satisfaction of victory.

In the quiet after Dean claps his brother on a shoulder. No, he'd never looked for it and on some days he fears losing everything he cares for, but _this_ is his life. Even after all the shit he's been put through Dean knows better than to seek change. The world needs someone to keep the monsters at bay. If not Sammy and him, then who else can he entrust with it?


	8. His Punishment (Crowley)

**His Punishment**

From his throne Crowley observes his gathering court of demons. Once he believed in that they worshipped and feared him as their King of Hell. Today he isn't so sure anymore about the strength of his reputation.

Oh, he sees the fear of his powers in their cold, black eyes still. Knows that they dare not defy or cross him, at least not in the open. But he isn't blind to their treacherous natures either. He's been around for too long to not understand what makes his kind tick. That they will sell him out like he would do them in turn. The better the deal the faster they'll trade him in for someone else.

Impatience crawls up into his mind, whispering of boredom. Every damned day his court needs for him to punish souls and demons alike. They ask him not for his judgement, but he has to pass it anyway since he has a front to maintain. His hell needs order, or it will go to shit. Still… Crowley aches to send his court away. Has done so in the past, when he could afford to, but to his regret he can't let them see that he's grown tired of routine.

"Sire?"

Crowley takes in the demon which has the audacity to interrupt his thoughts; from his handsome face down over its meat suit. The thirty-something human vessel he's taken has a cute ass and broad chest wrapped up in a black Armani suit and deep purple, silk shirt. His body is far too tempting… if it weren't for the smug glow in its empty eyes and the edge of disdain hidden behind its polite smile. This one doesn't respect him. He can smell it a mile off.

All by itself it reminds him of what he is, what he has to be. Fuck them, he is Crowley, King of Hell… and _they serve_ _him_!

"Step forth", Crowley beckons the demon. "_Kneel_ before your King."

Eyes ablaze with red fire he's fuming on the outside. Deep down Crowley knows what he must do to stay ahead of everyone else. To quench his thirst for power and survive hell he needs to be more even than the devil himself. Outwit and punish those out for his ass. This is the card he's been dealt, and - after centuries of time - he plays his hand more than well.


	9. Sacrifice (Rowena)

**Author note**  
Spoilers for Supernatural episode 15x03 - The Rupture. Needed to get rid of some of my Rowena and Sam feels. Proceed with care, sadness ahead.

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Rowena can't believe herself. These sentimental thoughts to want to save the world shouldn't be hers, but they are. What has humanity ever done for her? They who've spat her out for her magic and burned her for it… are they worth saving? She doesn't owe them anything and yet she will give them her last breath. How has it come to this?

Oh, deep down she knows why. The man in front of her changes everyone he touches. Sam bloody Winchester, with his compassionate, rough hunter charm. There's something more to him. He who got touched by the devil and grew stronger because of it. Sam to her is the definition of good. Magic draws to him… not to harm him, but to help him protect others. Even when he protests against her calling him the closest thing to a witch any hunter will ever be, she knows better, sees right through him.

Sam is her fate, the one of whom Death warned her of. Out of all the stories about her demise it all comes back to Sam killing her. She's fought her unforgiving destiny for a while, and so did he… until today. The cold truth of her end is nigh. Here she can see her story fall into place, even through her tears. Rowena knows now why she's asked of Sam to stay behind and not Dean or Castiel. Trust; when has she come to believe in him to do right by her? He who is her undoing?

Anguish and love are forever entwined. Here and now, inside of this cold crypt, Rowena wants to save the world, but at her terms. She can't kill herself. No, it has to be Sam, because she doesn't trust herself. Even when it breaks his heart like it does hers… there is no other way, and so she looks at him to see them through. Pleads with him to no longer deny what must come to pass.

The harsh, steel blade sinks deep into her flesh… and it's almost a relief for her to meet with it. Her fight is over. In the hold of his arms she can let go until she feels calm, focussed, even as her tears mingle with his. Loss… grief… hurt, he doesn't hide from her and she meets him like an equal. Witch and hunter. Friends. Once they were so different, but no more.

She rises to meet her fate, prideful of how her magic will do what no other force can. One last walk, and Sam is right behind her. Rowena looks at him, and 'her boys'. Respect and sad acceptance fill their silence. No one speaks, they don't have to. She knows that she's done right by them. Can see it in their tears and on their faces. One last step…

The almost endless fall into the deep rupture, into hell, takes her last breath away. Her story ends, but the world will move on safe… without her…


	10. Hobbits and Hunters (Sam)

**Hobbits and Hunters**

Forgotten books, archive folders and boxes clutter the table. The bunker is shrouded in silence, blissfully full of peace. No sense of urgency. Nothing or no one left behind to break Sam away from the world of fiction and fantasy he has immersed himself in. For once these creatures aren't out to hurt people.

Sam nestles his body further into his chair. Turning the page, he reads on with a smile. The paper feels wrinkled in his fingers, more than well read. His copy of 'The Hobbit' is a book full of memories. He cares not that its cover is dented and a little torn ever since in a fit of anger it got thrown onto the floor of a motel room.

Each page turn releases the smell of paper sprinkled with traces of gunpowder, herbs and stains of whisky. His book tells the story too of his life. Of Dean reading it to him before bed, while pretending that he wasn't enjoying himself too. He has memories as well of it getting thrown into his duffel in a hurry, because dad insisted that they, "_leave_ _now_".

Sam knows that he can easily buy a new copy. That he too can shelf it safely with his belongings in the bedroom he on some days calls his. Home… is that what they have here? He's never had one. Doesn't recognise it, because he is too afraid to settle and lose it all over again.

It doesn't matter that he knows the ending, because every now and then he has a need to revisit these trusted pages of his book held together with tape and loving memories of his big brother. The two of them in the back seat of the Impala… reading, while their dad sneaks glances at them through the rearview mirror with a rare smile of fondness on his face. Sure, his book is falling apart, but Sam won't ever part with it.

"Geek", Dean breaks into his mood, but not. Instead Sam looks up at him, pointed, as he accepts the offered glass of whisky. Dean shrugs and sits down at the table across from where he is. "Go on, read."

Smiling, Sam recites the adventure unfurling out ahead of Bilbo Baggins. Now the bubble of calm encloses his brother too. Happiness can't be theirs for long, but they've learned to embrace what little they are given… 


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